


trickling stream

by lingeringdust



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: F/F, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:25:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lingeringdust/pseuds/lingeringdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for ladiesbingo (compare & contrast)</p><p>Lauren kisses Bo, simply, softly, as if savoring the taste of Bo on her lips. And when Tamsin kisses Bo, it’s desperate, frenzied, hurried, as if she’s afraid this moment won’t last any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trickling stream

Lauren kisses Bo, simply, softly, as if savoring the taste of Bo on her lips. When Bo leans in close, breath hot, Lauren sighs, hands weaving through Bo’s dark hair, touches her back, fingers trailing down and down like a trickling stream. 

And Bo would part her lips, poised over Lauren, chi slowly seeping into her body -- Lauren’s chi -- strong, steady, flickering with curiosity, with intelligence -- and Lauren would smile, weakly, laugh, and lean in close.

Afterwards, Bo holds Lauren close. They lay together, in bed, bodies pressed against each others. Sometimes, Bo intertwines their fingers and other times, Lauren starts it. 

“Thirsty?” Lauren asks.

Bo smiles.

“Definitely,” she says. 

And Lauren shifts, sheets sliding off their nude bodies. She gathers some to cover herself, in case she runs into Kenzi, and heads towards the kitchen. 

“Love the view,” Bo says.

Lauren pauses, turns, gives Bo a roll of her eyes, and heads out.

She comes back a minute later, one glass of water in hand, and in the other, a plate of cake. 

“Found this in the fridge,” she explains. “Thought we could use the sugar.”

“Yum,” Bo agrees, shifting to an upright position. She lets Lauren settle back into her arms and the two of them take turns, feeding each other bites of cake in between kisses. 

“I love you,” Lauren says, breath hot, close to Bo’s lips. 

“Me too,” Bo answers. “I love you,” she says. So much.

*

When Tamsin kisses Bo, it’s desperate, frenzied, hurried, as if she’s afraid this moment won’t last any longer. But Bo wants, Bo wants so much. She tries to hold onto Tamsin’s waist, onto body, her arms, anything to keep her closer.

And Tamsin leans close to Bo, almost fragile, presses kisses against Bo’s neck, whispers with wide eyes.

“Kiss me, damnit,” she says, fingers right on Bo’s arms.

And Bo does. She leans forward, over Tamsin’s body, kisses everywhere: lips, cheek, neck, shoulders, and down and down and down. And Tamsin smiles and laughs, one hand pressed close to Bo’s shoulder, the other holding tight to Bo’s wrist. 

Afraid to let go.

Bo doesn’t try getting chi from Tamsin. She knows Tamsin will be able to stand it, but maybe not. She can’t risk it; she can’t make Tamsin think she’s only using her for chi. She can’t.

So she just kisses Tamsin, just presses her body close to hers, just have fun. 

When she does take chi from Tamsin, Tamsin takes just as she kisses; hurried and frenzied, but strong and ancient, and beautiful. She is old, has lived multiple lives, has been born and died and born again. 

Her chi shows the ancient wisdom and yet --

\--a kind of youthfulness or naivete that Bo can only compare to Kenzi.

And afterwards, they share a piece of cake, talking in between bites, and when that plate’s finished, they lay down again. Bo pulls Tamsin close, holds onto her, breathes slow and deep until they fall asleep.

“This is nice,” Tamsin says, tries to sound casual.

Bo presses her head into the crook of Tamsin’s neck. 

“Yeah,” she murmurs, wants to say more, but can’t fight sleep, lets sleep pull her away from Tamsin.

When Bo falls asleep, Tamsin whispers into the dark. 

And when Bo wakes, the space where Tamsin should have been sleeping is cold.


End file.
